The face of South Korea's boogeyman

'I came down to cut Park Chung-hee's throat,' the captured would-be North Korean assassin told the nation 40 years ago. Now he finds solace in his faith and hopes to help the South put that image to rest.

For the infiltrators, the operation ended in disaster. Cornered outside the presidential residence, they waged a deadly, days-long gun battle with South Korean police and military forces. Although nearly all of the North's commandos were killed, Kim was captured. Interrogated for months about his spy career, he was eventually released and later became a South Korean citizen, marrying and having a family.

On a recent day, Kim read a news story about the sentencing of two North Korean military spies. Such stories stir bitter memories of the night in 1968 when Kim and 30 other heavily armed North Korean commandos slipped into Seoul on a mission to assassinate then-President Park Chung-hee.

The 69-year-old may preside over a Protestant church in this picturesque community where the Han River bends among mountain peaks. But he is also the reluctant grandfather of North Korean spies, a reminder of a cloak-and-dagger world that refuses to be dispatched to the history books on this divided peninsula.

Reporting from Namyangju, South Korea — He looks more like a graying clergyman than the boogeyman of thousands of South Korean childhoods.

Years in a free society have exposed the fallacy of North Korea's argument that the South is an agonized wasteland that must be recolonized. Still, Kim feels pity for these newest Northern moles.

"I know they must be punished — we have a rule of law here," he says. "Still, I'm a human being. I feel sorry for them."

As the recent U.S. arrest of nearly a dozen Russian agents illustrates, international espionage still exists decades after the Cold War — especially on the Korean peninsula, where North and South are still technically at war.

Without money for high-priced satellites, a cash-starved North Korea relies on a more practical resource.

"It's hardly believable, but in this high-tech age, North Korea still relies heavily on humans as information gatherers," said Lee Dong-bok, a former member of South Korean intelligence and a senior associate at the Center for Strategic and International Studies.

Kim, whose parents were executed when he pursued citizenship here, still faces derision over his sinister mission of long ago. He's not a man of God, some say, but a would-be assassin. He remains haunted for surviving when others didn't.

"Sometimes," he says, "I think it would have been better if I had died that day."

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The operation code names were Cuckoo and Skylark.

At 27, Kim was chosen from among tens of thousands of North Korean agents to form the elite 124th Special Forces Unit. Their task: Cross the heavily mined DMZ and execute the South Korean president, taking pictures to verify the kill.

The 31 commandos were divided into six teams. As an army lieutenant, Kim led a squad whose role was to take out the bodyguards at the presidential mansion, known as the Blue House.

"I felt gratified to be part of the revolution to emancipate South Korea," Kim recalls. "We thought the president there was a stooge, an American collaborator. I hated him."

The unit set off at 8:30 p.m. on Jan. 17, 1968, dressed in South Korean army uniforms. Moving by darkness, hiding during the day, they snipped barbed wire and marched south through the mountains.

One night, they ran into a group of farmers gathering wood. Instead of killing them, they warned the villagers not to report them. The civilians immediately contacted authorities, who launched a manhunt for the infiltrators.